Halo - Through To Spring
by CaptainFox1
Summary: Home is a long way away. A mission gone wrong, unexpected alliances made, a lone SPARTAN must find answers in this unknown galaxy of war.
1. Chapter 1 - Modus Operandi

**Chapter One: Modus Operandi**

Three SPARTANs crept through a hallway, two holding rifles, the other a bulky scanning device. The bulbous, purple Covenant nanolaminate walls were stained with blood and dirt, and the doors they passed through sat half-opened with no power to hold them closed. Not only was the ship devoid of life, but also the central core's normal hum. Through her helmet, the armoured human holding the scanner frowned, holding up her right hand in a fist to halt the advance of the other two super soldiers. A yellow blip appeared on the small OLED screen, followed by an audible ping.

"One hundred metres this way on the left, should be the third door up on this next corridor," she whispered into the comm, gesturing to the hallway on the trio's right.

" _Copy that,"_ the SPARTAN to the lead's left replied, unwavering in position as he examined their next direction. This path, unlike the ones they had come through so far, drew into the core of the ship, and was completely pitch black at its far end. Gesturing with a quick flick of her fingers, they moved in. The blip on the scanner got more defined as the three SPARTANs walked up. On her left and right, the two with rifles tightened their grip as the final door came into view, sealed closed with only a small sliver of light reaching it from the outer windows. Setting the scanner on her belt, the SPARTAN reached a hand up to her helmet, fingering one of the many buttons off to the side of her visor.

"Kingpin, this is Dragon Leader. We're at OBJ, how copy?"

" _Dragon Leader, we read you fine. Get inside and capture the package. That Forerunner tech can_ not _get returned to the Covenant."_

"Got it, sir," she pointed to the plasma-shot door control panel, "moving in."

The two other SPARTANs put away their rifles and got on either side of the door, sliding their armoured fingers into the exposed seal. Using a screwdriver on her belt, the woman pried open the control panel, opening up a completely disheveled mess of wires. Ignoring standard protocol, she ripped out the wads of metal, completely shutting off the remnant systems holding the door closed. Depressurizing, the two SPARTANs were able to slowly but surely open up a space so that the third could toss a flare into the dark room. Her HUD radar didn't show anyone else except her companions, so she moved in followed by the others.

" _Wow, that's… something,_ " one of the others muttered. The woman nodded in agreement. What stood before them was a twelve-foot obelisk, glowing blue as it _floated_ in place, surrounded by Covenant energy shielding.

"Kingpin, this is bigger than intelligence reported. We didn't bring carry clamps or a Pelican."

" _Affirmative, but whatever it is is so important that a Zealot team raided a convoy near Psi Serpentis."_

"We'll find a way, then."

Turning off her comms, the SPARTAN shrugged and turned to her counterparts.

" _Well?"_

"First, get those shields down. We don't want any remnant Covies being alerted."

One of the SPARTANs shrugged. " _If there are any left, they're scrambling for the pods,"_ he joked, gesturing to the hallway. It was true, they had depressurized the ship upon their entry, suffocating any remnant survivors on the derelict vessel that weren't in Ranger suits.

"You can never be too sure, those Elites can last in space for a little bit," she replied, crouching down to take off the plate on the shield generator. The male SPARTAN gave a breathy laugh while the other stood sentry at the door, constantly scanning the dank crevices with eyes hidden behind the silver visor.

" _Need help?"_ the armoured soldier said, stepping slowly next to the woman.

"No, I got it," she pulled the metal frame away, "there." Now to deactivate it. Four thick wires ran from a central breaker attached crudely to a portable fusion generator, only set in the metal container that contained it by eight screws - two of the wires were purple, the other two were black. From her limited knowledge of the standard dialect of Sangheili used by the Covenant, the purples were labeled 'shield' and the blacks were 'core'. Glancing at where they were connected to, the shields were from the breaker to the shield projectors, while the cores were from the breaker to the fusion core. Considering their lack of time due to limited oxygen in their suits, she decided to detach the core wires. Much to her happiness, the shield fizzled out and the core's indicator light flashed red - nothing connected.

" _What do we do now?"_ the male SPARTAN asked, kneeling next to her.

"We lift," and lift they did. On touching it, the Forerunner device stopped glowing and fell to the ground, a trait seen regularly among the artifacts. Sliding their arms under it, the trio heaved it up - struggling even with their physically augmented forms.

" _I'll get Juno to bring the ship in,"_ the third SPARTAN mentioned, finally breaking their silence. While not expressly a 'ship', Fireteam Dragon's modified GA-TL1 Longsword Interceptor had more than enough room in its hold for the obelisk.

"Good, make it fast," the woman soldier grunted, straining her fingers to keep a good grip on the smooth metal.

" _I heard someone call?_ " an overly feminine voice called over the channel, causing the trio to smile as they made their way back to the windows on the outer hall.

" _Yes, bring the Longsword to the hangar. We have the package."_

" _Of course, sir. Give me two minutes,"_ and with that, the comms channel was switched off. Something fell around the corner as they neared the crossroads with the external corridor, causing the three SPARTANs to set the Forerunner object down and stop. Pointing around the corner, the lithe woman held up a flashbang grenade. The others nodding, she ran to the corner and threw the cylinder, turning her head away as it blew up, flooding the hall for a split second with bright white light.

"Go!" she ordered, pulling an M6G off her right thigh's magnetic clamp. Rounding the corner she came upon… nothing. Then, suddenly, nothing _moved_ right toward her, with an energy sword. She fired six times, backing up a step each time while simultaneously gesturing the others over. Dodging the cloaked Elite's first strike, the SPARTAN jumped, boosting almost to the ceiling to land on its back.

" _How the hell did this thing_ find _us? We went through all the silent entrance precautions!"_ the male SPARTAN said, grabbing and twisting the Elite's arm. With its sword-arm out of action, the woman slammed the back of her Magnum into the creature's neck, stunning it. Jumping down, she gave a swift front kick to its chest, knocking the gargantuan soldier to the ground.

" _Riok ni' jinohag thugra,_ " the Elite muttered - invading the SPARTANs' comms channel - as the female SPARTAN wiped a smudge off her forearm plate, walking over with her Magnum trained on its head.

"You two go on ahead, I'm going to make sure we don't have any more followers," she ordered, her gaze unwavering at the fallen warrior. The two other SPARTANs nodded and continued on with the trudging work, soon disappearing around another corner. Smiling, she kneeled, staring hard at the Elite's armour. There were four things on its set that would allow it to contact others or be tracked; the comm link on its forearm, the beacon in its helmet, the tracker in its back plate, and the emergency handheld radio. Keeping the Elite at gunpoint and explicitly avoiding depressurizing its suit, she deactivated and destroyed all of these systems, stepping back from her handiwork. The Elite glared at her the whole time, incapable in its position to do anything.

While deactivating the warrior's systems, the woman had also taken note of whether this one was alone or not - it was. She stood there for a moment before gesturing it away. The Elite, conflicted and genuinely surprised, rose to its feet and bowed while slowly backing up, glancing between her face and the Magnum now at her side. Much to its good fortune, it decided to walk away, not glancing back.

"All clear, boys, we're home free," the SPARTAN relayed into the now-clean comms.

" _Copy that. Juno is in position, waiting on you, over."_

"Roger, moving up," the next position, the hangar, wasn't that far. Getting to a fast jog, the female SPARTAN entered into the large room, holstering her Magnum as she went. On the far side, the Longsword was touching down, and below it her two companions and the obelisk. Coming up to them as the landing gear extended on the interceptor there was a short pause as, again, the three took a moment to look over the Forerunner monument in front of them.

" _This'll fit in the hold, right?"_ the male SPARTAN queried, glancing under the landing ramp of the Longsword at the thin door used as a loading dock. The other SPARTAN shrugged, while the woman laughed.

"Move all of your thousand sniper rounds over and we'll talk," she shot, earning a snicker from the man. Keying the button on her helmet once more, the woman called in Kingpin.

" _Status?"_

"All clear, package is secure. Anything else we need on this bucket of bolts before we lift off?" she asked. Looking around the hangar, it was apparent how much the UNSC ambush days earlier had done to it mainly by the multiple missile holes apparent in the hangar's back wall and the several dozen dead Elites and Grunts lining the ground.

" _Negative, just get out of the-_ " the comm fizzled.

"Sir? Kingpin, come in. Kingpin?" she tapped her helmet with her hand, assuming it was her antenna. Then, out of nowhere, an infantry plasma bolt struck the Longsword, alerting the trio to the presence of a dozen or so enemy combatants storming the door they had come from. Four Jackals, five Grunts, and three Elites stood before them, bearing arms and ready to fight. The other two SPARTANs opened fire with their MA37 rifles, striking a pair of Grunts in the heads.

" _We need to go,_ now!" the male SPARTAN yelled, the two of them halting their spray of bullets to pull the Forerunner object onto the ship. An Elite holding a Fuel Rod Cannon came out from the door, making the woman come back down to the ground to take aim - there was no way the Longsword would be able to launch with a burning fuel pod stuck in its engine cell.

"Get the obelisk out of here! Dragon Two, give me your rifle!" the woman yelled as three more Ranger Jackals ran out of the door, Beam Rifles in hand.

" _We have two Covenant Corvette-class ships coming out of slipspace, get that package onboard,_ " Juno exclaimed through the mic. The AI flared the engines, their signal to leave. With the other SPARTAN rifle-less, he heaved the obelisk on board, followed by the other two. As the woman got aboard and the ramp began to close, however, still firing aimlessly at the growing crowd of Covenant soldiers, she was struck in the shoulder by a plasma beam, sending her lurching forward off the ramp.

" _N- Juno, land the ship!"_ the male SPARTAN yelled to the front of the craft, getting no response. Her visor cracked from the several metre fall, the woman flipped over, saluting the other two as Juno continued the mission. Using her Magnum, she took out the Elite with the Fuel Rod Cannon the instant it fired, sending the explosive veering off into space instead of incinerating the escaping UNSC fighter. Standing frozen as the ramp sealed, the male SPARTAN and his companion stared, too surprised to move. The mission had gone _perfectly_ , every protocol was followed, what went _wrong?_

 ** _Hey guys, it's Lex! Welcome to my newest story, Through to Spring - yet another Halo fanfiction. This, for anyone who actually paid attention to the details of Halo: Legacy, will get some reference I'll be making in later chapters. Speaking of, because I 1. ran into writer's block for it and 2. have this story now, Legacy will be on hiatus (although I will continue to slowly write it out). I have big hopes for this story's future, so, stay tuned._**

 _ **Also, yay, school's out in three months.**_


	2. Chapter 2 - Midnight

**Chapter Two: Midnight**

Dana-B362 was different compared to her peers. Since her conscription into the UNSC SPARTAN Programme in 2531 following the destruction of her homeworld to the Covenant, she had watched as her Beta Company companions slipped seamlessly into their roles of vengeance against the alien invaders. They had not come to terms with their parents' deaths. She had, and had almost come to admire the Covenant. She still had the taught instinct to hate them, hell, she killed hundreds all the time, but not in cold malice -- it was simply her duty as a soldier of the UNSC.

Looking at the enemy soldiers that crowded around her, it was in the most raw sense a comforting sight. The trainers at the academy on Reach had assured them all that a valiant death was the best death. Sure, dying on a derelict Covenant Cruiser in deep space after being shot off the escape craft wasn't a _flattering_ death, but damn straight would it be fun.

" _Ey, mahgahchee_ ," the lead Elite uttered into the comm, pointing its Carbine at Dana. Gingerly standing up, she began to approach the enemy group before pulling out her Magnum and firing twice more -- killing the two shielded Jackals in front. The leader fired, sending a beam right into the SPARTANs' armoured chest, sending her flying back onto the ground. With a guttural roar, the leader rushed forwards, grabbing Dana by the neck and heaving her up. Instead of igniting its blade to strike her down like she expected, it instead drew a syringe. Sticking it in her neck, her vision went blurry. Dana yelled, the needle being much too long for a human, but it slowly trailed off as the Elite set her down.

"Aren't ya gonna kill me, squidhead?" Dana muttered, stumbling in front of the enormous soldier like a drunken sailor on shore leave. Four Jackals brought forth a cryopod, the leader pushing Dana into it with little resistance. As her weak arms tried to push against the door, it pressurized and sealed, beginning the freezing process.

" _Nishum, jah koh-eh gahkaboonoh Wuchahnnsu 'Kivetolee,_ " the lead Elite stated, staring at Dana as she struggled against the freezing procedure. At last, as the Covenant troops gathered to watch, the armoured human stopped moving, and they continued on their mission to retrieve their package -- a live subject of a demon.

ooo

Waking up was one of the more uncomfortable experiences Dana had endured in her deployment. She sat straight up as her mind finally came to life again, feeling the wounds on her neck and shoulder. With a sigh, she looked around her environment. A cramped room with dozens of similar pods, presumably the Covenant-equivalent of a cryo chamber, surrounded her, with a large door on the far end. The door to the pod she was in was already open -- of course, she was awake -- which meant someone had activated the defrost sequence.

"Demon, you're awake," came a robotic voice to her right. Spinning around with a balled fist, she came face to face with a Skirmisher, a translator attached to its neck, "I had half hoped Ultramajor 'Twaree had killed you so I wouldn't have to keep monitoring your pod." Dana said nothing, her eyes narrow as she tried to move. She was still too early in the defrosting to fully move. Her upper body was fine, her legs were still frozen in the semi-liquid slime the Covenant used to encapsulate the contents of the pod. Another figure, far taller and more muscular, came in through the main doorway as it slid open. The Skirmisher next to me put its hand to its chest and stood at attention, bowing its head as the enshadowed figure approached. Reaching up to its neck, the figure set something on itself.

" _Dohmoh'Een_ \-- Human, it is in your best interest of staying alive to cooperate and answer our questions," it said, an Elite, as it came into the light, "as it is, you aren't going back home."

"Dana-B362, service number zero-zero-three-six-two dash beta, Navy of the United Nations Space Command," the SPARTAN said on command, giving a light sneer at her adversary -- _they know planets like Reach and Earth exist, they just need the data to find them_.

"I'm giving you one chance to agree, or you will not be as fortunate," the Elite uttered, "I have heard this from a hundred different humans before you."

"Dan--" she was cut off as the tall Elite stormed towards the Skirmisher. The typical trick was worth a try.

"Major, restrain her and bring her to the detention centre. Throw her in with the most troublesome of the Sangeheili detainees," it spat, giving Dana a hard glare. Her legs were still frozen, there was no lunging at this one, and upon glancing down, her armour had been stripped, leaving her in just her jumpsuit and the padded inner-shoes. The Skirmisher, tentatively looking from Dana to its scrawny body, nodded at its superior and stepped over, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her forward. There was a certain dull pain in Dana's legs as they were thrust from the thawing goo prematurely -- freezer burn, she guessed.

"You are fortunate, demon, to be aboard Shipmaster 'Kivetolee's ship. Others in the flotilla are not as… generous," the Skirmisher said, resorting to walking beside the SPARTAN as her legs came back. Sure, she _could_ kill this creature and escape, but she was surrounded by guards at every door and several thousand war-crazed soldiers.

"I'm sure, I should be so grateful to be in the custody of my sworn enemy, right?" Dana asked sardonically, earning a scoff from the Skirmisher.

"I don't personally see why we're fighting this war. Atheism amongst the Covenant may be punishable by death, but I would rather sign a treaty with your UNSC than fight it. Bad business, this war is."

"'Bad business?' That's one way of putting it."

The Skirmisher led the formerly-armoured soldier down a ramp into a far thinner hall. Lining the walls were shielded rooms, where shadowed forms could be seen scuttling inside. A Jackal, rabid with hunger, snapped its jaws against the shield as the pair approached, earning a quick retort from the Skirmisher with the press of a button. Instantly, the avian collapsed in pain, convulsing as the apparent shock collar switched on.

"In here, demon, this is your stop," the Skirmisher stated, turning back to Dana, who was standing next to it giving an icy stare at the fallen Jackal -- still whimpering on the ground. In front of them was a slightly larger room, only one form inside.

"Come to disgrace me once more, T'vaoan?" the form asked loudly, making the Skirmisher spin on its feathered heel.

"No, it's time to meet your new roommate," and then it deactivated the door. Pushing Dana in with a quick tap to the back, throwing an object in after, the shield came back before she could turn again. Tensely, the Skirmisher nodded at her and walked away, its footsteps fading until she decided to face the figure in the corner. It walked up and snatched up the object, attaching it to its neck. With a light limp in its step, the tall individual came into the light. Standing before her was the same Elite she had saved on the derelict ship. Dana jumped back, getting into a fighting position, her fists balled as the Elite stepped closer.

" _Demon_."

ooo

A war of words with an AI was a one-sided, losing battle, this being most apparent to Milan-B210. Of course, UNSC AIs had been programmed to have self-autonomy, but to Juno orders were orders. Retrieve the package, get out, no questions asked was what Admiral Zhou had asked for on the UNSC _Stratford-upon-Avon_ , and so that's what he got. Not that Milan agreed. By this point in the war, the Covenant were growing ever-closer to Reach and other core worlds, keeping as many SPARTANs alive was key to victory over such important planets.

Dana's loss was a big impact in other ways, now that Milan thought about it. She had been Fireteam Dragon's leader, she had specialties that the other two members lacked, but most of all, she was Milan's friend.

"Approaching the _Stratford_ now, sir," the AI relayed, appearing on the console next to the shaken SPARTAN.

"Thanks, Juno," Milan sighed, leaning back in their chair to look at the holographic woman. Out of the small portholes in the rear hold of the modified Longsword, the slender gray trimmings of the _Stratford'_ s hull came into view as Juno maneuvered the heavy fighter into a docking sequence. The _Stratford-upon-Avon_ was a _Marathon_ -class Heavy Cruiser, built heavy in an orbital platform above Reach or the explicit purpose of being Admiral Zhou's command ship. With a bulky frame of one-point-two kilometres, it was -- at the time -- one of the largest human vessels built. Its usually glorious sight, however, was hampered by how many times Milan had come back in times of emergency. Originally, Fireteam Dragon had six members, then five… four… three… and now objectively _two_.

"How do we explain this to the Admiral?" the quiet SPARTAN asked, coming down the steps from the cockpit. Their helmet was off, revealing a thin, bony face covered in scars. Milan smiled thinly, devoid of happiness and instead filled with denial.

"We tell him the truth. SPARTAN numbers dwindle as it is, no point in hiding that we lost one more," he replied, casting a glance to the empty armour rack in the corner. The other SPARTAN shook their head, a frown spreading across their face.

"Milan, you know she's not dead. You remember that Marine team that was captured near Concord? Bet they're trying to get info on Reach," they commented, sitting down at a computer console in the corner. On the screen popped up a short video loop from the Concord incident a few months back, showing a pair of cloaked Elite Zealots knocking out five Marines and dragging them away.

"I think you're forgetting that Dana's a SPARTAN. The Covies despise us," Milan fiddled with his fingers, trigger finger twitching as he absentmindedly stared at the floor, "they'd never take one of us _alive_."

"Yeah, but still, her armour has invaluable information that could fall to Covenant hands."

"We don't even know where she _is._ Her transponder went dark," Milan took a look out the porthole again.

"Now docking at the _Stratford_. Kingpin is waiting for your report," Juno stated, reappearing next to Milan. Standing inside of the opened dock was a group of men -- four Marines and one uniformed Commander. It was only now, as the Longsword touched down, that Milan realized he was shaking. This was odd to him, he hadn't felt this scared reporting a death before; the disappearance of Olson, Lucas being incinerated at Taurus, Zoë sucked into space as two Covenant corvettes collided, and Leina eviscerated by an Elite Zealot. Even as he came down the ramp, he came to the realization that Dana's probable death was to be marked MIA -- catalogued in the official ONI documents but inevitably ignored after the war, whoever won. Of course, she _is_ MIA, and while his earlier commentary betrayed his thoughts, Milan wanted her back. Dana and the original Dragon Team were some of the only allies he had made back on Reach. It was selfish, he knew, and Zhou would never let one of his most important assets go on a wild goose chase across the galaxy in search of a dead _girl_ , but hope still remained. Hope would _always_ remain.


	3. Chapter 3 - Contention

**Chapter Three: Contention**

"Your people are stubborn," Dana heard, spoken from the Elite in the opposite corner. It was the third time she had refused to speak to the disgraced soldier. An ignored pile of half-rotten fruits sat in the corner, tossed in earlier by one of the guards. Sighing, she decided to break the silence between her and her adversary.

"That's why we survive," she replied with a terse tone, earning a breathy laugh from between the Elite's mandibles. It shifted in its corner, turning to fully look at Dana. She glanced away, unwilling to meet its gaze.

"And yet you fail to put us on the defensive," it mused, "your warriors fall by the hundreds."

"Yours fall by the thousands, you just fail to see it because you have exponentially more of them."

"Numerical superiority will be enough to devour you."

"And a strategic victory will be more than enough to quell _you_ ," Dana finally stared over, boring her gaze into its head. It simply laughed again.

"Finally, a demon with tact that extends further than the barrel of a rifle," the Elite commented, gesturing triumphantly at the SPARTAN opposite it. She simply grumbled. For a while, they sat, nothing else to do as the guards silently watched.

"So what did you do?" she asked after a moment of silent contemplation. The Elite sat forward, knowing what she was asking.

"I have sworn loyalty to the Covenant Empire. My reasons are my own. You're the reason I'm in here and not commanding this ship," it answered, glaring briefly at the maroon-clad Majors at the door.

"I _saved you,_ " Dana hissed, narrowing her eyes at the creature. It grimaced, mandibles tightening as she made her remark.

"By the honour of my people, I would rather you killed me in battle than making me bow to your faux mercy," it explained, "now I can't look 'Kivetolee in the eye without knowing that, to his youthful eyes, I gave up."

"There's a difference between honour and gratefulness, Elite."

"So there is," it replied, shifting to rest against the wall. Shutting its eyes, the cell grew silent once again.

ooo

Milan stepped down the ramp tensely, staring down at the uniformed official disinterestedly glancing back. Admiral Zhou was a difficult man, and - barring the SPARTANs - didn't quite care for his subordinates on the personal level. So, seeing the man's offhanded look only filled Milan with anger. Towering over his superior, Milan stood at attention and saluted.

"I assume you have the package?" he asked, saluting back before leaning to the side to look behind the armoured soldier. Milan was silent for a second, but nodded his head.

"Yes, sir. However, we lost Dana-B362," he reported, his stare unwavering on the Admiral. The other man sighed and ran a hand through his thin, balding black hair.

"Killed?"

"We're not positive, sir," the Admiral raised a brow, "she fell out of the Longsword upon our departure. Serwacy thinks she was captured by the Covenant."

"And? If she's been captured, there's no way to get her back. By now, she's already _dead_ , knowing the Covenant."

"Sir, we need to go after her. She's carrying information invaluable to the Covenant."

"Explain," Zhou shifted his legs, eyeing the Forerunner obelisk as a dozen or more ENGCORP units and Marines lifted it past.

"She was- _is,_ our team leader, as you know. On her is a detailed tactical map capable of viewing most human bases and outposts, Reach and Earth included. Unless she enacted Cole Protocol on said device and purged her suit's computers before being captured or killed, it's only a matter of time until the Covenant have their hands on those coordinates."

"Did you plant a tracker on her or the Covenant ship?"

"No, sir, her transponder went dark a few seconds before we spun up our slipspace drive," Milan depressurized his helmet, waiting for the pieces to release his chin before pulling it off.

"Then, _Commander_ , your job is done. NavLogCom'll take care of it, I assume, you need to get back out there," and with that, Zhou spun on his heel and stalked away, followed closely by two Marine Honour Guards. 'Commander'? That's Dana's rank.

"Lemme guess, he didn't care. _Again_ ," Serwacy spoke, clasping Milan's shoulder plate with an armoured hand. He shook his head, slowly turning to face his teammate while nodding.

There was a certain glint in Serwacy's eyes as they too removed their helmet, a glint of sadness. Milan knew that they both had a common thought - they were all that was left of the original team. Anyone else who was transferred over would be as effective, but would not be really _part_ of Fireteam Dragon. And then, as their eyes met again, it changed. It changed from that sadness, the sorrow of loss, to anger - a bitter, unrelenting anger that Milan understood all too well.

ooo

Sometime, Dana had fallen asleep, though she didn't remember it. The only reason she knew was because she was awoken by the rough hands of the Skirmisher as it shook her. Her eyes shot open, blinded by white light coming from the flashlights mounted on three Elite's Carbine barrels as they walked in. Even as she fought back, kicking and punching with all of her augmented might, she only managed to stun one of the silhouetted figures before she was again drugged and shoved into the hallway. From cold floor to cold floor, her exposed fingernails dragged into the nanolaminate floors to slow her to a stop. Everything blurred, and her head spun as she struggled to stay in control, stumbling to her feet as one of the Elites socked her in the face with the blunt of its forearm armour plate. Out of the corner of her eye as she fell, the impact turning her vision red and her cheek smarted, she saw the disgraced Elite sprint over to the now-raised shield of the cell, mandibles flaring.

"You behave as a _Jiralhanae_ , Evocatus, beating your captured as if they were a dog."

"This one _is_ a dog, 'Kumaee, it is one of the _demons_. Do you not take pleasure in the vulnerability of a monster?" the white-clad Elite spat, standing over Dana with a sharpened talon pushing into her neck. By now, whatever drug they had pumped into her was overwhelming, and her arms weakly pushed against its as it growled, turning back to the Elite - 'Kumaee - in the cell. "Do you wish to bring her to Shipmaster 'Kivetolee yourself?"

"No, but she is as dangerous now as she is in battle," he uttered. The four Covenant soldiers in the room were facing 'Kumaee, unknowing that Dana had found her way back to her feet. With the last of her adrenaline-filled will, she charged forward and knocked down the Evocatus, ripping a deactivated Energy Dagger from its belt. The downed Elite roared and grabbed her by the stomach with one hand, tossing her across the room with little effort. Dana let out a cry as she impacted the opposite wall, spectated by the silent guards at the door. Struggling to press the button with her relatively small hand on the Elite-sized weapon, she raised the blade to her chest just as the Evocatus charged with a full Energy Sword. For a few seconds, Dana was successful in pushing the Elite away, noticing that the other two Evocati and the Skirmisher were standing back. Soon, though, its superior stamina, mass, and mental stability made the fight a one-sided one.

"There is no use, worm, you will succumb eventually," it exclaimed, thrusting its arm forward with another strike. This one nicked Dana, creating a thin mark on her chin. Instantly, as the plasma burned her skin, she cried out and faltered. Instantly, the Evocatus pushed her down, snatching the Energy Dagger back with a growl.

"I thought the human would have lasted longer, given their apparent swiftness," came a voice from behind Dana. Her dazed eyes lazily tracked to the source, coming upon a polished white Elite as it stepped into the cell while the guards stood at attention.

"Ultramajor, sir!" the Evocatus stepped back, deactivating its blade and following suit with the maroon guards. The Elite waved away their honorifics and kneeled to look at Dana, who lay frozen staring back.

"Stop fighting, demon, you need to conserve your strength. I have uses for you, and you will be awake for all of them. I need to learn what makes demons _demonic_ \- what they did to you. And, though I have seen… obvious resistance, you will help me," the Ultramajor, with that, set Dana back on her feet and guided her back to the Evocati, who bowed their heads at their superior and pulled the inebriated SPARTAN out of the room.


End file.
